


As Fate Would Have It

by WhichWolfWins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Case Fic, Cupid - Freeform, M/M, Profound Bond, True Love, Witches, somewhat graphic description of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhichWolfWins/pseuds/WhichWolfWins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When people start dying mysteriously in their sleep in a small town, Sam and Dean go to investigate. Castiel Novak works at the motel they rent a room at and he soon becomes their main suspect. Things start to go downhill with the arrival of Meg and Crowley, two witches that are harvesting soul bonds. Their next targets? Dean and Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is in no way beta'd, so if you see any mistakes, they are my own and I would love for you to inform me of them! :)
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke, Kripke Enterprises, Wonderland Sound and Vision, and Warner Bros. Television, and anyone else involved in the making and producing of this show. This is in no way mine; these are their toys and I am simply playing with them.

If Castiel Novak had been given any kind of warning that fate was sitting in the driver’s seat of a ‘67 Chevy Impala, driving 90 miles per hour on the Interstate singing Zep's Ramble On at the top of his lungs with not a care in the world because he had his brother at his side and his baby rumbling underneath him, it would not have surprised anyone if he was gone by the time the shiny black car came to a stop outside the motel he worked at.

Fortunately, or unfortunately (we will never know now), Castiel Novak was not given a heads up, so when Dean’s beautiful baby purred to a stop outside the motel, Castiel was still staring at the flickering light on the ceiling, wondering how long he could wait until he had to change it, wondering if he would still be there when that time came. 

The bells above the door gave a hearty jingle as two men pushed through it, drawing Castiel’s attention away from the light - which he’d decided he would change at the end of his shift - and to the men striding toward the desk he stood behind. He caught a glimpse of the darkening night outside before the door banged closed behind them. 

“Hey there...” the shorter man leaned over and read Castiel’s name tag, “Jimmy. We’d like to rent a room for the night.” He plastered on a dazzling smile that Castiel was tempted to roll his eyes at. The man was gorgeous and he knew it, but he was also cocky with it, and Castiel would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that Castiel had noticed. He had bright green eyes, straight white teeth (a rarity for the customers at the motel), golden scruff, and an air about him that spoke of classic rock and one night stands. If Castiel was told that this was the man he was destined to be with, he would have chuckled in amusement. 

Instead, he glanced up at the shorter man, who was taller than himself by a few inches, and even higher up at the younger looking man who stood to about 6’4”. He looked like a giant, cute puppy with wide brown eyes and his cheeks dimpled when he gave Castiel a friendly smile. Castiel turned back to the computer. “Besides our regular rooms, we have 6 different theme rooms: Sweetheart, Hong Kong, Tropical Paradise, African, Cave, Dutchess. They each have a jacuzzi.” None of which he was willing to touch with a ten foot pole, Castiel was tempted to add. 

The shorter of the two men chuckled. “Um... we’ll just go with the usual? With two beds. We’re brothers,” he explained, knocking his knuckles on the desk. He said it in a way that made it clear to Castiel that they were often presumed to be a couple and he didn’t doubt it as he’d thought the same thing. 

Castiel typed the information in. “That will be $60.” 

The shorter man slid his I.D. and credit card across the desk. The man posed with a sarcastic smile as Castiel studied his face and the photo on the I.D. and matched the name on the I.D. with the credit card before entering in the new information and handing them back to Robert Page. He didn't think the guy looked like a Robert. He rose from his chair and grabbed the key from the room’s mail-slot and handed it over to Robert, his fingers brushing the man’s calloused palm as he pulled his hand away. 

“Room 6,” he said, pointing to the hallway behind them, lined with yellowing wallpaper. “If you need anything, you can come here or dial zero on the phone in your room.” 

Robert and his brother nodded and each gave him thankful smiles before turning and carrying their duffel bags to their appointed room. Castiel found himself watching the shorter man walk away and couldn’t help but watch and imagine being straddled by his bowed legs. He thought Robert would have made an excellent cowboy in another life. 

It wasn’t until he was free to stare that he noticed how exhausted the brothers looked, their shoulders sagging and steps heavy, yet they still held themselves at attention. Castiel noticed more things he hadn't spotted right away as they came to a stop in front of the door to their room. They had made the effort of swiping their shoes off on the mat inside the door, but they still managed to track dark dirt through the lobby and down the hall, and patches of it caked their jeans and dusted the sleeves of their jackets. Their duffel bags looked to be heavy, the handles worn as if from constant use. 

Once the brothers disappeared inside their room, Castiel headed into the storage room and dragged out the rickety ladder. He placed it underneath the flickering light that had been bothering him for most of the night, then went to retrieve the four pack of already opened light bulbs. He put on gloves so as not to burn his fingertips, bit down on the handle of a flashlight, and shut off the lights. 

As Castiel climbed to the top of the ladder, he imagined almost every horrible outcome doing so in the dark without a spotter could bring. He saw the ladder collapsing beneath him, tipping and spilling him onto the floor, imagined falling and cracking his head open on the wall or the sharp corner of the desk, or the likely shoddy wiring electrocuting him as he unscrewed the light bulb or placed a new one in. None of which happened, of course, because fate had other plans for him, but Castiel didn't know that, so he continued imagining possible demises. 

After he had screwed the new light bulb in, Castiel climbed down the wobbly ladder, turned the light back on, and wheeled out the vacuum to suck up the fresh dirt trail. The loud sound of the vacuum filled his ears as he pushed the heavy, ancient dark green contraption back and forth on the worn-down red carpet with its blue paisley pattern. 

When he reached the end of the path just outside room 6, he saw that there was a Do Not Disturb sign hanging around the neck of the handle, still swinging. He shut off the vacuum and, in the sudden silence, the snores of the dead tired rang out from the other side of the door. Castiel turned away and pushed the vacuum back toward the storage room, wrapping the cord around and around the hook as he went and thinking of Robert’s glittering green eyes and his calloused hands.


	2. The Death

Castiel bolts awake at the sound of pounding on his door. He spares a glance at the clock to find that it’s barely noon. He groans and shifts his feet over the side of the bed and rises to answer the door. A glance through the peephole shows him Mia standing wide-eyed on the other side.

“Mia, what’s-” he starts to say upon opening the door. 

“Oh my god, Jimmy! Mark Galford in room 13 is dead!” Mia cried. She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out into the hallway, and continued to drag him along behind her. Her long brown hair flowed over her thin shoulders as they hurried down the long hall. 

“There was no Do Not Disturb sign on his door, so I knocked a couple times, and when he didn’t answer I let myself in and I found him just laying there and... his mouth was open and his eyes were just... just staring!” She turned to face him with watery brown eyes and her heart-shaped jaw trembling. “His face was frozen like that, Jimmy. He looked like he'd been scared to death!” 

Mia finished talking just as they got to the top of the stairs. From there, Castiel could see that the lobby was cluttered with people. Half of the lobby was blocked off with yellow police tape, keeping the nosy and curious room-renters out of the way. On the other side of the tape, police milled around with grim looks on their faces. Some were carrying clipboards and others held plastic bags or cameras. 

There was police tape at the bottom of the stairs and Castiel and Mia came to a stop before it. Castiel's heart froze in his chest as he watched a stretcher holding a black body bag being wheeled past him and out of the building. An older man with a graying moustache and eyebrows walked over tapping a pen against a pad of paper. His eyes were steel gray and his lips were the kind of thin that spoke of being pressed together often, in much the same way they were as he came to a stop before Castiel and the flustered housekeeper Mia. 

“You Jimmy Novak?” the man asked, his dark brown eyes slit inquisitively. 

Castiel nodded, wishing he’d at least had the chance to grab his trenchcoat. He was standing on the stairs in nothing but his light blue boxers and a white t-shirt. He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling naked as the sheriff studied him intensely. "It's Castiel. Castiel Novak. Jimmy's my nickname," Castiel said, suddenly worrying that he might come under suspicion if they were to look him up and find no one matching his identity. "My middle name is James," he explained, blushing. 

The sheriff frowned. “Okay... Um... I'm Sheriff Wallens. Ms. Price says you were working at 3:19 this morning?” 

“Yes. My shift ended at 4,” Castiel nodded. 

“Did you see anyone or hear anything strange last night?” the sheriff asked with one eyebrow pushed up high. 

“No. No one was in the lobby or either of these hallways after 11,” Castiel said, indicating both halls. He pointed out the mirror in the corner up near the ceiling. “That gives me a clear view of the hallway and Mr. Galford’s door.” 

“Were you behind that desk during your whole shift?” the sheriff asked, his eyebrow creeping even higher toward his receding hairline. 

“I took a bathroom break around 2,” Castiel supplied. “But other than that, yes.” 

The sheriff nodded. “One more question: can you get me the tapes for the cameras?” 

Castiel turned to Mia and her eyes widened upon being noticed once more. She nodded hurriedly before scurrying off to get them. 

“If you remember anything else,” Sheriff Wallens said, digging in his pocket and pulling out a card. “You call me. Okey, Mr. Novak?” 

“There is nothing else I could tell you,” Castiel said, but he took the card anyway. As the cop walked away, a shift in the crowd on the other side of the yellow tape caught his eyes. He looked over and saw the two men who’d arrived late the night before. They were standing inconspicuously in the back of the group. The taller man was turned so that he was facing his brother and his brother, Robert Page, was nodding. They looked like they were talking business, Robert’s lips pressed together as he listened to his brother, who stood closely and spoke, quiet and urgent. Castiel blinked and found Robert looking directly at him as he nodded at whatever his brother was saying. Castiel stared back until Robert’s lips quirked up in a smirk and he shook his head in amusement before looking away and saying something to his brother. 

Castiel turned away and took the stairs two at a time, feeling way too exposed in just his sleep clothes. He walked down the hallway to his room, his cheeks burning hot at the memory of Robert's eyes on him. Once back in his room, he crossed the room to his bed and crawled back underneath the ugly floral covers to wait for his heart to stop racing. 

* * *

Later that night, Castiel was playing Solitaire on the computer when he heard footsteps scrape to a stop on the carpet. He glanced up from the computer and found Robert Page on the other side of the desk. He wore a short sleeved black shirt, his leather jacket missing from the night before and earlier that day, and a dazzling smile. 

“Hey, do you guys have a soda machine around here?” Robert asked, drumming his fingers on the desk. His voice was lighter than Castiel remembered; he sounded better rested. 

“No.” Castiel rolled his squeaky chair back to the mini-fridge. “We sell the food up here, because the vending machine kept getting broken into.” He opened the door and the chill from inside rose goosebumps on his arm. “What would you like?” 

“I’ll take two root beers,” Robert said. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled five. He smoothed it out the best he could, smiling goofily at Castiel as he did. His teeth looked really white set against his sun goldened skin and Castiel forced himself not to stare and turned to dig the cans out of the fridge. “We ended up getting the room for another week,” Robert said, explaining why they were still there when they'd only gotten a room for the night. “We've got more business around here than we'd thought.” 

“So the incident this morning didn’t run you guys away?” Castiel said, remembering their urgent looking conversation as they stood on the other side of the police tape. He handed over the sodas and traded the change for the five. The butterflies in his stomach beat their wings frantically as Robert’s calloused hands brushed against his. Castiel pulled his hand away and tucked both between his knees. 

Robert chuckled and cracked open his soda. “We know how to take care of ourselves,” he said, then took a drink. “What about you, turned in your 30 day notice, yet?” he asked after he swallowed, quirking his eyebrow at Castiel. 

Castiel felt his cheeks warm as he watched Robert’s adam's apple bob and shrugged. “This job is no commitment. I can leave whenever I want.” 

Robert smiled. “I’ve never been one to settle down myself. Me and my brother, we travel a lot. It’s kind of like a never ending road trip.” 

“Must be nice having someone to travel with.” Castiel hadn’t meant to say it. He’d meant to ask why it was they were travelling, what it was they were running from, because he had a feeling there was something. Instead, he added, “I’ve always traveled alone.” 

“It’s nice sometimes, but sometimes I just want to take off and leave him stranded on the side of the road, or go out and have a beer, and... well, you know,” Robert said with a conspiratorial smile. “Sammy and I are opposites. Sammy keeps to himself and reads most of the time. You’re like that, too, huh?” 

Castiel nodded. “I watch a lot of t.v. I don’t really go out.” 

“Guy like you probably has women crawling all over you whenever you do, though, am I right?” Robert said with a wink. He took a swallow of soda, keeping his eyes on Castiel as he did. 

Castiel’s whole body felt hot as he shrugged noncommittally, avoiding Robert’s eyes, focusing instead on adjusting his shirt cuffs. “Like I said, I don’t really go out. The same probably goes for you. Girls love charming smiles and the ruggedly handsome look,” he said, offering a nervous smile. He was awful at flirting. 

Robert’s smile faltered a bit and he laughed awkwardly, his eyes flickering over Castiel. “Yeah. Uh...” he backed away from the desk. “I should probably get this to Sammy,” he said, raising the unopened soda. “Nice talkin’ to ya, Jimmy.” 

“Yeah, you, too,” Castiel said to Robert’s retreating back, but his words went unheard as the door to room 6 clicked closed behind him. Castiel groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face, disappointed in himself for scaring Robert away. 

As Castiel sat waiting for the long, late hours to pass, he found his eyes drifting toward room 6. Even though his heart raced every time he saw Robert, Castiel could not get over the fact that something felt slightly off about the days events, and that Robert and his brother might have something to do with it. His mind kept rewinding back to when he’d seen Robert and his brother Sam talking behind the police tape, and the serious looks on their faces before Robert caught Castiel looking. Something was definitely off about the brothers, and Castiel really wanted to know what it was.


	3. The Truth

The next afternoon found Castiel sitting on the sidewalk outside the motel eating a ham and cheese sandwich, the ziploc bag of carrot sticks, a string cheese, and chocolate pudding cup still untouched in the brown paper bag by his side. The sun was shining bright, warming Castiel’s cheeks and the sidewalk underneath him. The sleeves of his black button-up shirt were rolled up to his elbows and his legs were stretched out in front of him. His eyes were closed as he took another bite and basked in the sun’s warm glow.

He was rolling his feet back and forth on the rocks when he heared the rumble of a car crunching into the driveway, loud rock music trailing from its open windows. Castiel cracked open an eye and watched as the shiny black car parked and both the front doors popped open. Robert and his brother climbed out. Castiel chewed his sandwich as he watched Robert stretch, causing his olive green shirt to ride up and reveal the smooth, tan skin and the two dimples on his lower back, as well as the dangerously low hang of his fit blue jeans. 

Castiel forced down a swallow of his sandwich and quickly brushed the crumbs off his clothes before the men had a chance to notice him. He glanced down at his feet as they turned and walked toward him, rocks scattering and bumping against his shoes as they neared. 

“Hey Jimmy,” Robert said, stopping just as his feet came into view. “Later Sammy,” he called after his brother. 

Castiel looked up and waved to Sam and tried not to smile too widely when he looked up at Robert. The sun was framing Robert in such a way as to make it look like he was glowing; he looked like an angel. “Hello, Robert.” 

Robert chuckled and sank down onto the sidewalk to sit beside him. “How’s it goin’?” 

Castiel shrugged before taking another bite of his sandwich. 

“Got anything good in there?” Robert said, flicking the paper bag that held Castiel's lunch. 

Castiel gestured for him to look for himself and chewed as Robert peeked inside the bag. This close, Castiel could see every freckle on Robert’s sun-goldened skin and he traced them with his eyes while Robert was looking away. 

“Pudding!” Robert cheered. “I haven’t had pudding since the last time I was in the hospital,” he confessed, releasing the bag to lean back on his hands. 

Castiel swallowed another bite. “Take it,” he offered. 

“Really?” Robert said, his face lighting up. His green eyes looked particularly green in the sunlight. 

Castiel dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “Yes,” he nodded for added approval. 

He watched with a secretly pleased smile as Robert dug the pudding and the plastic spoon out of the bag. He quickly peeled off the lid and delved in. Castiel forced his eyes away as Robert licked the pudding off the spoon. 

“Do you go to the hospital often?” Castiel asked, deciding to do a little digging into the life of the man that Castiel found himself wanting to touch and perhaps find out why it was that something seemed off about him and his brother. 

Robert quirked a smile. “Try not to if I can help it,” he said around the spoon. It clicked against his teeth as he spoke. “I can usually take care of myself, but I’ve seen my fair share of the waiting room. Sam’s the health conscious type, always has to take his vitamins. Not me, though.” He made a point of shoveling an extra big bite of pudding into his mouth and grinned with chocolate covered teeth. 

Castiel chuckled. “You said the other night that you and your brother travel a lot and that you’re here for work; what do you do, if you don’t mind my asking?” 

Robert swallowed the mouthful. “We’re looking to expand our business, build another restaurant. What about you, do you travel? You don’t seem like the kind of guy who would work in a place like this. You're too...” he waved a hand around dismissively before shoving another spoonful of pudding between his teeth. 

It was an obvious subject change, but Castiel found himself wanting to tell Robert about himself. “I sold a.m. radio space for a while, but... it’s kind of stupid really, when you think about it, but do you ever have the feeling that you’re supposed to do something more with your life?” 

“Yeah, all the time,” Robert answered, nodding earnestly. He was listening to Castiel with an intense gaze that made Castiel blush, the spoon forgotten in the pudding cup. 

“Well, my family... they wanted me to be a part of the family business, but... like I said: I feel like there’s something else I’m supposed to do with my life; I just don’t know what it is, yet. That’s why I’m here: I’m searching for it.” 

Robert smiled and set the emptied pudding cup down on the cement so he could lean back on his hands. “Sam was the same way, wanted to go his own way. He wanted to be a lawyer, but here he is. I feel bad, because I was kind of the one that brought him back.” 

“My brother Gabriel, he’s the only one of my brothers and sisters that will still talk to me. He left the family business, too, as did my brother Luce. Gabriel went into television.” 

Robert frowned. “Wait... Gabriel and Luce... as in Lucifer?” he said, eyebrows raised. 

“We’re all named after angels,” Castiel admitted, cheeks heating under Robert's gaze. 

“So... what’s Jimmy short for?” 

“James is my middle name. My first name is Castiel.” Castiel paused a moment before taking the risk. “What about you, what’s your real name?” 

“What makes you think my name isn’t really Robert?” said Robert, his eyebrow cocked in question. 

“I am usually pretty good at telling when someone is telling the truth. Also, because there’s an old Rolling Stone’s magazine in the lobby. I’ve flipped through it so many times I could probably recite it word-for-word if I really tried. You were just playing Led Zepplin, and by the sound of you singing, I can guess that you really like the band. The lead singer was Robert Plant and the guitarist was Jimmy Page; hence, Robert Page. The people that come around here usually pay in cash and don't want anyone to know who they are, so it would be a surprise if your's was fake, too. I could easily be wrong about you, but am I?” 

Robert grinned. “You’re good.” He dusted off his right hand on his jeans and offered it to Castiel. “Dean.” 

“James Dean now?” Castiel said, taking the hand in his. It was more to feel the rough calluses there again than to actually shake his hand. 

Dean laughed. “Nope. Deana, my grandma. Sammy was named after our grandpa Samuel.” 

“What about your job? You lied about that, too.” 

Dean shook his head, amused. “You’re reading my mind, aren’t you?” He laughed at Castiel’s frown. “We’re more like detectives.” 

Castiel nodded, because it made perfect sense now. “You were here about Clarissa Daniels’ death a few days ago, and Mr. Galford’s death is what kept you here.” 

Dean nodded in agreement. “We think they were murdered.” 

“Mia said it looked like Mr. Galford had been smothered.” 

“Yeah...” Dean looked hesitant to continue. 

“But you don’t agree?” 

“It does look like that, but...” he sighed heavily and turned to face Castiel straight on. “Do you believe in the supernatural? Like, werewolves and ghosts and shit like that?” 

Castiel shrugged. “I’ve never had reason to, but I’ve never had reason not to, either.” 

“You’re going to think I’m crazy, and I have no idea why I’m telling you this, but me and my brother hunt things like that, and we’ve been tracking down deaths like this for a while now. We think we’ve finally caught up to whoever or whatever is doing it.” 

Castiel searched Dean’s face for anything that might show him that Dean was joking, but he found nothing but honesty staring back at him with green eyes. Castiel nodded. “I believe you.” 

Dean’s face lit up with a grin. “I knew I liked you for a reason!” he exclaimed. He thumped Castiel on the back. 

Castiel’s face flushed at the exclamation. He took a breath to calm his nerves as Dean pulled his hand away. “Dean?” 

“Yeah, Cass?” 

“I was wondering-” 

Behind them the door banged open, the bells above it jingling loudly as Mia walked out. She put her hands on her hips and Castiel’s heart deflated as he watched Dean's eyes skate down her body with interest. “Gavin is wondering if you can take on the rest of his shift. His sister needs to go home sick from school and he's the only one that can pick her up.” 

Castiel nodded and rose with his paper bag. “Sure.” He looked back at Dean and hesitated a moment before saying, “maybe Mia here can help you out with your case." Since he couldn’t have him, Castiel decided, he could do the nice thing and help Dean out a little. Mia was single and he could tell by the way her cheeks turned pink that she was interested, too. 

Dean's mouth parted as if to say something, but then he changed his mind and said instead: “Yeah, thanks, Cass. See ya later, man. Nice talkin’ to you.” 

“You, too, Dean.” 

Castiel pasted on a calm smile as he passed by Mia into the motel and tried not to hear her as she giggled at whatever Dean said as the door swung closed behind him. 

* * *

Early the next morning, as Castiel climbed tiredly into bed, he heard the sound of an ambulance racing by. He was too exhausted to think about what they were driving to.


	4. The Date

Castiel had the day off the next day, so he slept in, wallowing in the warmth of his bed. He stayed in bed most of the day watching t.v., only getting up to use the bathroom, take a shower, then grab something to eat. He'd decided to read for awhile and was about an hour into a really good mystery novel when his room phone rang. He groaned and lowered his book to his lap; the only people that would be calling him would be someone from work, and that likely meant they needed him to take on a shift. He picked up the phone reluctantly.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice rough from not being used all day. 

"Hey Jimmy, there's a guy named- what's your name again?" he heard Charles, the other night-shifter, say, his hand muffling the phone, "Robert down here inquirin' about you. What should I say?" 

Castiel's heart skipped a beat. Dean was asking about him? His cheeks warmed as he smiled. "Put him on." 

The phone shifted around and then Dean said, "Cass, is that you?" 

Castiel picked at a loose thread on his comforter. "Yes, Dean. How can I help you?" he said, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice. 

"Hey, so, my brother wants to stay in tonight and do research, and I'd rather not. I was... uh, wondering if you might want to get a drink with me? I mean, if you're not spending your day off with your girlfriend or something." 

Castiel beamed, his eyes dropping to the clock. He'd wasted the whole day away watching a CSI marathon and reading and it was now going on 9 o'clock. "Um... it's kind of late notice," Castiel said. 

"No, yeah, I get it, man, I understand. No big deal. I'll just...-" 

"Give me 5 minutes and I'll be right down," Castiel said quickly, before Dean could hang up. Castiel hung up the phone and ran to the dresser in his pinstriped light and dark blue boxers. He shoved his hands into the bottom drawer and grabbed out a pair of black pants and slipped them on as he stared at the neatly folded shirts in the top drawer. The only shirts that weren't button-ups that needed ironing were white t-shirts and black t-shirts. He pulled out a black one and then changed his mind; too much black. He grabbed out a white one and then balled it back up; that one was too tight. He picked the white one back up and pulled it on anyway, then pulled out a black button-up. He shook out the wrinkles the best he could, then buttoned all but the top two buttons. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he remembered having worn a black shirt the day before when he'd sat outside with Dean. He quickly shed the black and white shirts and pulled on a black t-shirt with a light blue button-up over it. He turned away from the mirror before he could change his mind and dug out a pair of socks. 

When Castiel finally made it downstairs to the lobby, exactly 5 minutes later to his surprise, he had his tan trench coat folded over his arm and his hair was in a severe state of dishevelment. He was about to pat it down when he saw Dean leaning against the front desk and quickly stopped himself. This wasn't a date, he reminded himself. This was two acquaintances going out for a drink. Dean smiled at him when he spotted Castiel and wolf-whistled, wiggling his eyebrows as Castiel came to a stop in front of him. 

"Shit, man, blue," Dean said, then laughed as he pushed off the counter. "I mean, you and blue go good together. Uh... you look nice," Dean finally finished, rolling his eyes at himself with a smile aimed at Castiel. 

Castiel tried to keep himself from blushing too noticeably as he said thank you. "You look nice, too, Dean." And he did. Dean was wearing blue jeans and a dark gray open button up over a black t-shirt, and the same well-worn leather jacket from the first time Castiel had seen him. He doubted there wasn't anything Dean wouldn't look good in. 

Dean grinned and rubbed a hand over his sandy hair. "Ready to go?" he asked, patting at his pockets before withdrawing his car keys. Castiel nodded and followed Dean outside. They crossed the parking lot to Dean's car, which was hidden somewhat by the shadow of trees falling across that part of the parking lot. "This is my baby," Dean said, putting a hand on the car's trunk and turning to smile at Castiel. "Me and Sammy practically live in here." 

Castiel didn't know much about cars, but he could tell that it was an older car just by the look of it, and it was in excellent condition. Dean clearly cared a lot about it. "She fits you," Castiel admitted. 

Dean laughed warmly. "You should see the driver's seat. Like a glove," he said. "Do you drive?" he asked as they went to their separate doors. 

"No," Castiel admitted. Dean gaped at him over the roof of the car before Castiel ducked inside. Dean followed him in, sliding into the driver's seat, and looked at him, waiting for him to continue. Castiel shrugged, buckling himself in. "I mostly take buses and planes." 

"Mostly?" 

"There's always the occasional hitchhiking when I'm low on money." 

"Guys like you shouldn't hitchhike," Dean said, then scratched at his nose before putting the key in the ignition, avoiding eye contact. "I mean... people might try to take advantage of someone who looks like... well, you." 

"I can take care of myself," Castiel said. He heard this often, and it annoyed him, because people thought that because he was quiet, he was also weak. 

Dean looked at him from the driver's seat and realization dawned on him. "That's not what I meant, Cass." 

Castiel nodded and ran his fingers over the leather seat. "She really is beautiful," he said. "How long have you had her?" 

"My dad got her the year she was made, in '67. He gave her to me when I turned 16, after I proved to him that I could fix her if she needed to be fixed." 

Castiel smiled and Dean started the engine. Music blasted from the speakers and he quickly turned it down so that it was quietly playing in the background. They talked mostly about Dean's car for the trip to the bar, with the addition of stories about Dean's brother. Castiel felt a comforting warmth whenever Dean was speaking. Once they arrived, Castiel's stomach started to turn. Though he'd been nervous since hearing Dean's voice on the other end of his phone, up until now he hadn't really allowed himself to think about what he was going to have to do now; try to keep himself from falling for a man that seemed designed specifically for him to fall for. Castiel rarely let people in, and yet here was Dean making him want to get to know him, to touch him, to kiss him. Castiel had just met the man a few days ago, and already he felt like he knew him better than anyone else. Castiel realized that was actually the case, and then he frowned to himself, because why would Dean want someone like him, anyway? 

"You feelin' alright?" Dean asked as he parked the car outside the bar. He shut off the engine, but kept his hand over the key still in the ignition, as if he thought Castiel might be planning to ask Dean to take him home. 

Castiel met Dean's eyes and smiled. "Just a little nervous. I don't go out much and I'm not really one for drinking." 

Dean nodded understandingly. "You know what? How about you and me go get something to eat, instead? I don't even remember eating dinner." 

Now that Castiel thought about it, he hadn't even eaten dinner. He'd made himself two sandwiches around lunchtime, and that was it. "Are you sure, because I don't mind going here." 

Dean shook his head. "It's fine, man. Plus, the last time I drank on an empty stomach, well... I'm never doing that again. I felt sick for days after." Castiel chuckled. "So, where's good to eat around here?" Dean asked, giving Castiel a crinkly-eyed smile.


	5. The Suspect

The restaurant was filled with a spattering of people and Castiel glanced around uncomfortably before following Dean to a two-seater table. Dean pulled his chair out for him and Castiel felt himself blush. He sat in the offered seat and smiled nervously as Dean sat down across from him, grinning.

"Have you ever been here?" Dean asked, picking up a red napkin and smoothing it over his lap. 

Castiel shook his head. "No," he admitted. "I haven't been here long, and I don't usually eat out at places like this alone." 

"Don't date much, do you?" 

Castiel laughed warmly. "I've only ever been on one date before," he said, "and I didn't even know I was on one until he invited me back to his place and tried to kiss me." 

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "How did that work out?" 

"He was pretty upset when I told him I was leaving. He claimed that I was giving him signs the whole night that I was interested, but the only thing I can think of that might have even slightly shown I was interested was my complimenting his tie." 

Dean burst out laughing, his eyes lighting up. "Seriously? Poor guy. Must've been really disappointed." 

A blush burned Castiel's cheeks and he smiled down at the cream-colored tablecloth. 

The waitress came over with their menus and they each ordered a beer. Castiel scanned the menu pointlessly. He couldn't focus on the words with Dean's eyes on him. When he looked up, Dean smiled at him. "You look cute when you blush.” 

That only made Castiel blush even more. "You always look cute," Castiel said, then turned an even darker shade of pink. His eyes widened in embarrassment. "I mean-" 

"You do, too, but pink is definitely your color, not mine." Dean's eyes were twinkling when Castiel met them with his. "Don't worry, Cass. I don't think you're giving me signs." 

Castiel’s heart sank and he smoothed out the napkin he’d been twisting. "Actually, I was trying to," he said nervously. "I mean... sorry. I guess Balthazar wasn't the only one who couldn't read signs. I thought you were flirting with me." 

That made Dean burst out laughing. “Cass, relax! I am definitely flirting with you.” Dean reached across the table and took Castiel’s hand, the one with the napkin balled up inside of it, in his. He caressed his calloused thumb over Castiel’s skin. Castiel swallowed hard and Dean pulled his hand away when the waitress returned with their drinks. 

“Are you ready to make your order?” 

* * *

Castiel’s heart was racing as Dean drove them back to the motel. He tried his best to pay attention to what it was Dean was saying, something about his brother, but his blood throbbing in his ears was making it hard for him to hear anything else. At one point, Dean reached over and rested his hand on Castiel’s knee, bringing Castiel out of his head. 

“Sorry, what?” Castiel asked, realizing Dean had asked him a question. 

Dean squeezed his knee and released him, putting his hand back on the steering wheel. “Would you like to come meet my brother?” Dean repeated, glancing over at Castiel with a hopeful smile. 

Castiel smiled back. “Sure, I would love to meet your brother,” Castiel said. It was the truth, too. It was clear how much Dean cared about his brother, and if Dean liked him that much, he was bound to be a good guy. 

Dean grinned and started to nod his head along to the music. Castiel had been right before: Dean really loved his classic rock. 

When they got to the motel, instead of heading up to the room he was renting, Castiel followed Dean to room 6. Dean put the key in the lock and pushed the door open, revealing Sam sitting at a round table on his laptop. 

"Hey, Sammy, this is Cass, that guy I was telling you about," Dean said. 

“Hello,” Castiel said, smiling at Sam. He heard the door click behind him and Sam rose to stand, and then there was a hand sealed over his mouth and a knife being held at his throat. 

“What are you?” Dean growled into his ear as Sam grabbed the chair he’d recently vacated and put it on the floor in front of him. Dean forced him to sit down. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot,” he said, flashing the gun tucked in his jeans. 

Castiel stared up at the brother’s in front of him in disbelief, completely confused and terrified. “What do you mean what am I? I’m human!” 

“You’re the one killing people around here, aren’t you? First Clarissa Daniels, then Mark Galford, and now Mariah Shannon. All of them killed in their sleep, all within just a few blocks of here. You said you’ve only been here for a little while and we checked to see since when. You’ve been here two weeks. That’s one day before Clarissa was killed. Now, why is it that everyone’s suddenly dying since you got here?” Dean asked, glaring at Castiel while gripping the knife’s handle with white knuckles. 

“It’s a small town, Dean,” Castiel said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. “Everything is within a few blocks of here.” 

“What about the trail of dead people you’ve been leaving behind you?” Dean growled. He picked up a stack of photographs off the round table Castiel hadn’t noticed and began flashing them in front of Castiel’s face. “Leonard Marsh, Susan Saso, Darleen Parish, Caty Morris, Francine Dowd, Jesus Enez. All of them showed up dead the moment you passed through their towns. And these are just the people we know of!” Dean waved the pictures around in front of Castiel’s face before slamming them back on the table. “Now tell us what you are,” Dean said, wielding the knife at Castiel again. “We could do this the easy way, or the hard way.” 

“Listen, Cass,” Sam said, pushing himself off the wall he'd been leaning against with arms crossed to walk over to him. “We really aren’t bad guys, but you have to admit that this evidence,” Sam pointed at the pictures, “it’s really piling up, and it’s all pointing to you as the killer, so why don’t you just tell us why you killed all these people?” 

Castiel closed his eyes and shook his head. “I didn’t do anything. I swear, I didn’t kill those people. I could never-” Castiel’s voice broke and he bowed his head. His throat had constricted and he was finding it hard to breathe. 

“Did you know they arrested an innocent man today?" Sam asked. "We checked him out ourselves and there is no way he could have killed those people. These murders, they were done by something not human; it literally sucked the lives out of those people, Castiel, and he was human. We have proof that you’ve met every last one of these people.” 

Dean picked up one last picture and Castiel nodded at the sight of Balthazar. He’d been expecting it. Someone was killing off everyone he’d ever said one word to while on the road. He had met all those people, though he hadn’t known most of their names until now. Leonard had worked at the front desk of a motel Castiel had stayed in, Susan had been a nice woman he’d talked to on a long bus ride while passing through Missouri, and he was pretty sure Francine, going by the name of Fran, had served him a few drinks at a bar somewhere in California. Jesus had hit on him in that same bar. He was pretty certain he recognized Caty and Darleen’s faces, but he couldn’t pinpoint where he’d seen them. 

Tears skittered down Castiel’s cheeks and he raised his face to look at the brothers. “I didn’t kill those people. I don’t know how to make you believe me. We can do this the hard way if we have to, but I’m telling you now that I am only human. I didn’t kill them, and I most certainly didn’t suck the life out of them.” 

* * *

When the Winchester brothers finally let Castiel leave their room with a freshly bandaged cut on his forearm, he felt both physically and emotionally drained. He made his way up to his rented motel room, locked the door behind him, toed off his shoes, then fell onto the motel bed. He curled up into a ball on top of the hideous blanket and forced himself to go to sleep. He didn’t want to think about the fact that Dean had been flirting with him just to get information off of him, he didn’t want to think about all the people who’s deaths were his fault in some way, and he most certainly didn’t want to think about who the killer might be, but his dreams in sleep seemed to differ with his waking brain and all their faces flickered behind his eyelids.


	6. The Apology

Castiel stayed in his room the next day. He didn’t want to see the Winchester brothers. Most of all, he didn’t want to see Dean. He was reluctant to leave the room the next day, too, but he did, because he had to go to work. He dressed slowly, putting off leaving his room as long as possible, then headed down to the front desk. 

Castiel had always liked working night shifts. It was usually quiet and he was able to get a lot of work done, as he was often also a part-time handyman, and when someone came to the front desk it was usually to get a soda or a late night check-in. Sometimes someone would come out of their room looking to just get out for a while, and Castiel would often end up keeping them company until they decided they’d been a part of civilization for long enough and went back to their rooms. 

That night, all that was required of him was for him to sit behind the desk and wait for someone to need him, so he did just that. He was at the halfway point in the mystery novel he’d started a couple days before when he heard the click of a door. He tilted his book down to peer over the top and, as he suspected, saw Dean Winchester walking his way. 

The other man wasn’t wearing his usual leather jacket, wore only a dark blue t-shirt, and had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He looked like a dog with his tail between his legs as he neared, his beautiful green eyes downcast as he crossed the room. 

“How can I help you?” Castiel asked, changing the page on his book and closing it over his finger to keep his place. He looked up at Dean like he wasn’t affected by his presence, but all he could think about was the way Dean had made him feel happy for the first time in a long time and the fact that it had been all to get information out of him and to lure him to their motel room. 

Dean looked back at Castiel with a look in his eyes like he was the one that hurt. Castiel couldn’t hold his gaze, feeling guilty despite everything for acting like Dean didn’t matter, and skipped his eyes away to look instead at the scuffed-up desk. 

“I, uh... I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. It had to be done.” 

“Are you going to?” Castiel asked when Dean didn’t say anything more. 

“To what?” 

“To apologize,” Castiel ground out, meeting Dean’s eyes with his own steely-eyed gaze. 

Dean sucked in a breath and licked his lips, then sighed it out and leaned his hip against the desk, his elbow resting on the countertop. “Look, man, I am sorry. For all of it.” 

“What else?” 

“What do you mean ‘what else’?” Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow inquisitively. 

Castiel sighed and set his book pages-down. “You obviously have something else you want to say, so just say it,” he said. He had a feeling he knew what it was Dean was getting at. He was going to tell him that he was sorry he’d tricked Castiel into believing that Dean was interested in him. 

Castiel didn’t know Dean as well as he’d hoped he did, but he knew that Dean wasn’t the kind of guy to be a dick just to be one, so he held his breath and waited for Dean to let him down nicely. 

Dean huffed a laugh and shook his head, then smiled almost bashfully at Castiel. “I don’t know what it is about you, man, but I just really want you to forgive me.” 

It took Castiel a moment to process what it was Dean had said, but when he did, he couldn’t help the warm smile that crossed his face. “What do I get if I accept?” 

Dean’s smile brightened. “Whatever you want,” he said, his voice changing from hopeful to seductively suggestive in a matter of seconds. 

Heat bloomed in Castiel’s cheeks. He wanted to ask Dean if he was flirting with him, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Their kind-of friendship was such a fragile thing that Castiel worried he might break it by asking, and he didn’t want to risk that, because he liked Dean and he didn’t want him to feel like Castiel was trying to move too fast. 

Dean’s laugh snapped Castiel out of his flustered thoughts. “Do you ever relax?” he asked with an amused smile, leaning on his forearms on the counter-top. 

Castiel ran his finger along the age-softened pages of his book as he flattened his other sweating palm on his jean-clad thigh. “Apparently not when you’re around,” he risked saying. 

Dean’s eyes crinkled even more as his smile widened. “Well? What do you want?” 

By the sound of Dean’s voice and the look in his eyes, Castiel had a feeling he wouldn’t turn Castiel down if he said he wanted Dean, but Castiel had been thinking about the case for the past two days, hadn’t been able to get it out of his head, really, and at the moment that was more important to him. 

Castiel met Dean's eyes boldly. “I want to help you guys find the thing that’s killing all those people.” 

Dean’s smile faltered temporarily, then it returned, brilliantly bright. “I had a feeling you were going to say that.”


	7. The Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I have no time lately to write, but I wanted you guys to have a new chapter!

Sam raised his eyebrows upon seeing Castiel enter the room with Dean. “I’m guessing you’re here to help?”

“If that’s alright with you,” Castiel said. 

“Yeah, man, no problem. I’m sorry about the other day, it’s just... we’ve been tracking this thing for a while now and it’s really starting to piss us off. You were our only suspect, and now we don’t even have that.” 

“I actually might be able to help with that,” Castiel said. 

“What, you have an enemy or something?” Dean said jokingly as he sat down at the table, leaving one seat open. He offered Castiel a beer, but he declined and instead took the empty seat. 

“I guess you can say that,” Castiel said. 

The brothers’ eyebrows shot up, then Dean’s bunched together. “You’re serious? You have an enemy?” 

“Two. There names are Crowley McCloud and Meg Master and they both hate me for two entirely different reasons. Crowley, because a business he and I ran together went under after I decided to sell my shares. The last I knew, he was living out of his car.” 

“That’s not too bad,” Dean said. 

“Not everyone finds living in their car suitable, Dean.” 

Dean shrugged and took a drink from his beer. “And what about this Meg chick, she the guy’s wife or somethin’?” 

“Adoptive sister. She has always shown an obvious interest in me, but it wasn’t until I decided to travel that she made it clear to me just how much she was. She told me that I couldn't leave, that we were supposed to be together. She’d planned out our whole futures together, down to the best times for us to try to conceive. A few nights before I left, she tried to set fire to my apartment. Crowley blames me for the fact that she’s in a mental institution. Well, at least she was when I left.” 

“Where at?” Sam asked, glancing over from his laptop screen. 

“Pontiac, Illinois,” Castiel supplied. 

Sam tapped away at the computer and Dean smirked. “Told you he loves this kind of stuff.” 

Sam made a sour face at his brother and clicked a few times before his eyes widened. “So get this,” Sam said, licking his lips and sitting up straighter. “Apparently, someone broke out of the Institute for Human Resources,” Sam said, sounding excited. “One Meg Masters, in fact.” Sam turned his laptop around. “Look familiar?” 

A grainy picture of Meg stared back at Castiel with her jaw clenched and her eyes slit. Castiel nodded. “That’s definitely her.” 

“They seemed to think she had help breaking out,” Sam said. “A few nurses reported seeing a shorter man with cropped dark brown hair and brown eyes wearing a nurse’s uniform, but they’d never seen the guy before then and he’d been spotted talking to Meg just a few hours before she escaped.” 

“That sounds like Crowley,” Castiel said. 

“What I don’t get is why they’re killing the people you meet and not just you,” Dean said. 

Castiel frowned at Dean and Sam looked concerned. 

“What I mean is... what’s their plan? Are they trying to frame you? These people sound really fucked up, man. I don’t think framing you’s gonna satisfy them.” 

Sam cleared his throat. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, I think it might have to do with witches.” 

“Witches? Fuck.” Dean stood up and went to get another beer from a small cooler. Castiel remembered the night Dean came to buy sodas from him and he looked away from the stocked blue box. They'd suspected him by that point, then. 

“Why do you think they’re witches?” Castiel asked. 

“Have you ever heard of Old Hag Syndrome?” Sam asked. 

“Isn’t that to do with sleep paralysis?” 

“Yeah, well, not so much. See, some people that have suffered from sleep paralysis have claimed that they woke up to find an old woman sitting on their chest, trying to suck the life out of them. These ‘old hags’ are really witches, and they take people’s life energy for their own, to make themselves look younger and more powerful.” 

Castiel’s mouth went slack and Dean offered him a beer again. This time, he accepted and tipped the bottle back, drinking deeply. When the brown bottle was empty, he set it down on the table and looked at the brothers. “So, what are we going to do? Kill them?” 

“We’ve gotta find them first.” Dean said. 

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” a new voice, a familiar voice, said from the doorway. Castiel and the Winchester brothers looked in sync toward the door where a short man dressed in a well-tailored black suit and a woman with dyed-blonde hair stood, each smiling smugly. 

The girl’s smile grew even more smug upon meeting Castiel’s wide eyes. “Hello, my little unicorn. Did you miss me?”


	8. The Explanation

Before Castiel even had a chance to blink, Sam and Dean had guns trained on Meg and Crowley. By the time Castiel did blink, Meg’s smile had stretched even wider and her eyes were twinkling with mirth.

“Ooh, Cass, you really know how to pick ‘em,” Meg winked at Dean. “Remember me?” 

Dean glares at Meg. “You look different then your picture,” he says. 

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I’ve had to disguise myself a bit after being spotted in Arkansas.” 

“How do you know her?” Castiel says, jealous despite the anger crashing over him in waves. He glares at Meg with her ever-present smirk, clenching his hands into fists. 

“I went out for a drink the other night and she just threw herself at me and tried to shove her tongue down my throat.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Castiel says, quiet to keep from shouting. 

His words give Crowley pause and he cants his head to the side, a pretend frown on his face. “You mean you don’t know?” He looked sadly at Sam and Dean. “I thought you boys were supposed to be the best in your field. Tsk tsk, such a disappointment.” 

Sam’s face settles into an expression he recognizes from Dean’s ramblings about the younger man; his infamous bitchface. “Well, we really don’t have to know why. What we do know is that you’re the ones doing it and that a bullet through the brain usually does the trick.” 

Sam and Dean raise their guns in sync. 

“We’re witches; do you really think we’d allow you to shoot us?” 

With a flick of his hand, Sam and Dean are slammed against the yellow and green damask wallpaper of their rented room. 

“Isn’t it killing you?” Crowley says to Castiel. “It’s just eating you right up, the need to know why.” 

“You can’t just not know,” Meg says. “You’re not that kind of person.” 

“Then tell me,” Castiel says. “Tell me why you’re killing all these people.” 

Meg laughs, delighted. “You never should have let me kiss you,” she says. “It really was a coincidence! That night you left, you just felt so guilty! Poor little Cassie who’d never been kissed felt bad for me! I really wasn’t expecting it. I always thought you’d be lonely forever. I tried to get close to you, I really did. I liked you, though you probably don’t think it’s possible for someone like me to have feelings. So I wasn’t expecting to kiss you and see you glowing so bright. You were bright white, almost blindingly so, and I had to close my eyes because it hurt to look at. But it also made me feel alive! My skin was vibrating!” 

Meg has a light in her eyes as she tells the story, like she’s reliving it all over again as she brings the memories to the surface. She brushes the tip of her pointer finger feather-light over her bottom lip. Her cheeks are flush with heat. “We’d been looking for it for years and finally - finally! - I’d found it, and I wasn’t about to just let it get away.” 

“Meggie, dear, you’re not making any sense,” Crowley says. “Tell them.” 

“Yeah, _Meggie_ ,” Dean says with his green eyes slit. “Tell us what the hell you’re talking about.” 

“A bond! A fuckin profound bond, straight from a cupid! We’ve found some before, but never anything strong enough; like a nightlight. You were a sun.” 

“I still don’t get it,” Dean says. 

“I’m not finished!” Meg snaps. Her eyes flash black and Dean falls to his knees and starts scrabbling at his throat, struggling to breathe. 

“Stop!” Castiel shouts. He hurries to crouch at Dean’s side and glares at Meg. “Leave Dean alone!” 

Meg laughs and Dean gasps in a deep breath of air. 

“We were trying to find your pair, but none of them were ‘the one’” Crowley says, using air-quotes. “So we killed them, took what little of their bonds that they had to offer.” Crowley smiles. “And then you came along,” he says to Dean. 

Meg matches his smile. “And then you came along and I had to see! I had to taste and find out if you matched, and you do!” 

“Your lipstick kisses are all over Dean’s collar.” Crowley says. “So now we have to kill you lovebirds.” 

“You will not touch him!” Castiel says, stepping in front of Dean like a shield. 

“Oh, Crowley, just look at him! Cass’ finally got his first boyfriend and he’s already willing to die for him. Isn’t that cute?” 

“Very,” Crowley says flatly. 

Sam clears his throat. “So, you’re saying Dean and Cass have some profound bond and you guys are going to kill them so you can take the power for yourself?” he asked. “I’m not going to let you kill either of them, either.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Sammy boy. We’ve got it all figured out. We’re going to make Dean die willingly.” 

“Yeah?" Sam laugh harshly. "I’d like to see you try!” 

“Sam,” Castiel warns, because he doesn’t like the smirks he sees on Meg’s and Crowley’s faces. 

“We’ll give you until 11 p.m. tomorrow night to make your decision,” Crowley says, and then they disappear from the room. 

In the sudden silence of the room, Dean laughs. “Well, that was anti-climactic,” he says. 

“Dean...” Castiel says softly. 

Dean’s eyes go immediately to Castiel, hearing the break in his voice, and he follows the other man’s gaze to the empty space where Sam once stood. “No...” Dean breathes, a look of utter horror and heartbreak etching into every crease on his fallen face as he takes in his brother's sudden absence. 

* * *

“Read,” Dean says, dropping a heavy book onto the table in front of Castiel. It causes a pencil to bounce out of a cup full of them and it lands on the table where it rolls away and falls to the floor. 

Bobby, a man that Dean claims is like a father to him, sets a beer down beside Castiel and Castiel immediately reaches for it. He downs it quickly, breathing through his nose until the bottle is empty. He puts it down on the table and pulls the thick book toward him. 

“So, what are we looking for?” Bobby asks as he sits down behind a large desk. He cracks open an even thicker book than Castiel’s and scans the first page he sees. “Cupids?” 

Dean hadn’t explained a thing to Castiel. All he’d said upon tearing his eyes away from the Sam-less space in the motel room was, “Pack your bags. We’re going to get Sam back.” 

Bobby had opened his front door with a shotgun pointed at Dean and said, “you didn’t call.” His eyes took in all of Dean and he glanced back at Castiel before looking toward the car and back again. “Where’s Sam?” 

Dean had simply pushed past him into the house and started pulling books off the shelves. 

“They’re like anti-cupids. They take away bonds rather than give them. They said...” he glances over at Castiel for the first time since Sam was taken and his eyes fall to the hand he has laying flat over one of the aged pages in his book. “Me and him,” he says, jerking his chin toward Castiel. “We’ve got some kind of profound bond thing and they’re going to take it to become more powerful, which would kill us. They took Sam as an incentive for me to say ‘yes’.” 

Bobby heaves a sigh and readjusts his hat. “And what about Castiel? How are they going to get him to agree to do it?” 

All eyes turn to Castiel and he drops his gaze. “They know that I will not let anyone else die.” 

“And no one is going to die if I can help it. We’ve got to kill these fuckers before they kill us. Now we’ve just got to find out how." 

Castiel sighs and begins by scanning through page one.


	9. The Stolen Moments

Despite how tired he is, Castiel reads well into the following morning. He isn’t the only one, either; Bobby is seated behind his desk, flipping through the pages of each thick book he thinks might even have the slightest bit of information on witches and harvesting power.

Dean had complained about the lack of books on the subject of cupids, finding only three. 

“Hell, if it wasn’t for me running into one of those naked bastards a few weeks back, I wouldn’t have known the damn things existed,” Bobby had said gruffly. “I’ll call my contacts and see if anyone else’s dealt with cupids before.” 

That was hours ago, and no other hunters had had any experiences with a cupid, though a man named Rufus had gone on to tell Bobby some story about a man in a diaper that had made Bobby slam the phone down on the hook and chug down a beer. 

Dean had grabbed two of the books as thick as his hand and carried them up the stairs to the room he was staying in, leaving Castiel and Bobby to read in the older man’s office. 

Every time the other man gets up to get a cup of coffee, he refills Castiel’s for him and returns to his seat to scan more pages. By 4 in the morning, Castiel’s drank so much coffee that he doubts he’d be able to fall asleep if given the opportunity. 

It’s also around 4 that Castiel comes across something in his book, the only other book about cupids Bobby has, that gives him pause. He reads over the whole passage again, the blurry words taking a couple attempts to finally sink in. His heart catches in his throat. 

“Find somethin’?” Bobby asks. 

When Castiel looks up, his tired eyes burning. “Yes,” he admits, his voice coming out rough and broken. 

Bobby takes notice right away and his eyes trace Castiel’s face in silence before he breathes heavily and leans back in his seat. “You gonna tell him?” 

“No,” Castiel says. 

Bobby scrubs his hand over his face. “I was worried you would say that.” 

Castiel looks back at the passage and reads over it again, then once more to be certain that he’s just read what he thought he’d read; he had. Castiel closes the book and rises from his seat. 

“Where are you going?” Bobby asks, his cup of coffee paused in front of his lips. 

“Good night,” Castiel says. He holds the book at his side as he walks up the stairs to the second floor. There’s light peeking out through the crack at the bottom of Dean’s door and Castiel pauses in front of it to hear as Dean changes a page in whatever book he’s reading. 

Castiel quietly stows the book inside the linen closet before he returns to Dean’s door and knocks quietly. 

“Come in,” Dean calls from the other side. 

Dean is sitting up in his bed with his ankles crossed and a book resting open in his lap. 

“Have you found anything?” Castiel reluctantly asks. He needs so badly for Dean to say ‘yes’. 

“No,” Dean says, before finally looking up from his book with a hopeful look on his face. “You?” 

Castiel wants more than anything to be able to say ‘yes, I know how we can save your brother without us dying’. He wants to be able to make the worried lines on Dean’s face go away and be replaced with the crinkles around his eyes as he smiles at Castiel like he lit the world. But what Castiel has to say isn’t something that would make Dean smile, not at all, so he doesn’t say a word of what he knows. Instead, Castiel shakes his head. 

All he can think about are the stories Dean told him about his brother. About the night Sam went off to college and how badly it had broken Dean’s heart, so much so that he didn’t leave the house unless it was to get more beer; the time Dean spent all day showing Sam the ins-and-outs of driving his beloved Impala and how Sam had nearly driven the car right through a restaurant, because Dean had turned on the music and it was set to max. The time Dean’s father, John, had been drunk on the 4th of July, so Dean had snuck them out of the motel room and driven them to a nearby field where they shot off a bunch of brilliantly colorful fireworks and how it had been the happiest he’d ever seen his brother, and the happiest Dean had ever felt, because if his Sammy was happy, Dean was happy. Castiel knew that if he told Dean what he’d read that he would say ‘no’, that Dean would rather go in guns blazing without a clue as to how to kill Meg and Crowley over letting Castiel do this. And Castiel couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let anyone else die. 

“Is there something you need? Another blanket? A pillow?” Dean asks. Castiel blushes, because he’s been standing there in Dean’s doorway watching him read and Dean’s taken notice. His eyebrow’s cocked and he has a finger laying across the page, marking the line he’s on. 

Castiel hesitates in the doorway with Dean’s eyes on him, a blush tinting his cheeks, before he asks, “would you be amenable to me staying the night in here?” 

Dean blinks and opens his mouth to speak. “Uh, yeah, sure man. Umm...” Dean scoops the pile of books off of the other side of the bed and stretches to put them down on the floor, his shirt lifting to show the curve of his spine as he twists awkwardly. 

Castiel moves toward the bed and pauses beside it. He glances over at Dean, who’s back to reading his book, before he reaches down and pops the button of his jeans open. He slides them down his legs and steps out of them before turning back to the bed and catching Dean looking. He blushes an even deeper shade of pink as Dean’s heated eyes trace over his body. 

“Damn, Cass, that’s what you’ve been hiding under all those baggy clothes? You should wear this more often,” Dean says, trying for a grin but only managing a small smile. 

“I’m not the only one who should wear less clothes,” Castiel says. 

Dean licks his lips before he glances down at the book in his lap. He reaches over and grabs a random piece of paper and tucks it between the open pages, then he tosses the book onto the pile on the floor. He grabs the end of his shirt and catches Castiel’s wide-eyed gaze with a smile. He tugs the shirt up and over his head and it quickly joins the pile of books on the floor. “Like what you see?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at Castiel. 

Castiel nods and kneels down onto the bed. Dean’s smile falls away and is replaced with a more serious, surprised expression as Castiel crawls across the bed and swings a leg over his to sit across his lap. Castiel doesn’t waste any time in cupping the back of Dean’s neck and diving in for a kiss. 

Castiel kisses Dean lightly at first, just a soft press of lips against pillowy lips. He likes the way Dean’s lips give as he presses against them, parting to catch Castiel’s bottom lip. After that, Castiel presses in harder. He opens his mouth to Dean and their tongues slide together. Castiel scoots even closer and Dean’s hands go to his waist, where he holds Castiel in place to delve in further. 

By that point, Castiel is half-hard in his boxers and he rolls his hips to rub himself against Dean’s thigh. Seeing Dean grow hard beneath him only succeeds in hardening Castiel further and Dean groaning hungrily into his mouth has him dampening the front of his boxers with pre-come. 

“Cass, lay back,” Dean says, palming the front of his jeans, and Castiel moves quickly, laying back across the bed while Dean kneels and quickly unfastens his jeans. He tugs them off, laying down momentarily to kick his legs out and pull them the rest of the way off, and throws them to the floor. His black boxer-briefs are straining as he crawls over Castiel and begins kissing him again. 

Castiel returns his hands to the back of Dean’s neck and tangles his tongue with Dean’s as the man above him grinds down against him. Castiel moans, clutching at Dean, and Dean traces a finger down Castiel chest, over his stomach, until he reaches the band of Castiel’s boxers. 

“Cass?” Dean asks, pulling away from the kiss for only a moment before Castiel pulls him back in and nods his head. Dean slides the boxers down his legs and stops the kiss to look down Castiel’s body to his cock. 

“Shit,” Dean says, and he sits back on his heels for a second before he climbs off the bed and goes to his duffel bag. “Shit,” he mutters again. Castiel tilts his head back to watch as Dean rifles frantically around in the bag and takes hold of himself, unable to resist a few strokes before Dean is back, carrying a bottle of lube and a condom. 

Dean drops the condom onto the bed and Castiel parts his knees to accept Dean between them. Dean tucks his knees underneath him to keep Cass’ ass in the air and pops the lube open to cover his fingers with the liquid, then he leans over Castiel, holding himself up with one hand to bend down and kiss him and slicking Castiel’s entrance with the other, his finger teasing over Cass' hole. 

“Dean,” Castiel whimpers as he presses a finger in. He opens his legs a little further. He’s panting by the time Dean has him up to two fingers, and by the third he’s nearly breathless. 

Dean pulls away and reaches for the condom, but Castiel balls it in his hand. “Are you clean?” he asks. “I want only you,” he says. 

Dean’s eyes go wide, but he nods and licks his lips before he kisses Castiel again. He slicks his cock and lines up against Castiel, holding onto the thighs Cass has wrapped around him before he sheathes himself, steady and careful, inside Cass. To keep Castiel quiet, Dean has to capture Castiel’s gasps and whimpers in his mouth. 

Castiel digs his fingers into Dean’s back, his fingernails marking crescent moons in his shoulder blades as Dean pulls out and pushes back in. All Castiel can do is hold on as Dean begins a steady pace inside of him; he relishes in the stolen moments they’re sharing, because that’s what they are: Stolen. There are tears in his eyes at the realization and he kisses Dean hard so that Dean won’t notice. 

The bed is creaking as Dean’s pace picks up faster and Castiel’s cheeks burn, realizing Bobby can probably hear them now, but he doesn’t care, because Dean is above him, holding him, kissing his knees as he hitches Castiel up higher. 

Castiel’s orgasm takes him by surprise. He’s been on the precipice since the beginning and Dean slamming into his prostate sends Castiel right over, gasping silently and clutching onto Dean as he comes onto his stomach and Dean’s chest in spurts. Dean continues fucking into him for a few more seconds, slamming in deep before he comes, gasping “Cass!” just before he spills into him, his body shuddering. 

Dean lays down on the bed beside Castiel, their heads at the foot of the bed, and takes hold of Castiel’s wrist. “We might die tomorrow,” he says, looking up at the ceiling. 

Castiel turns onto his side and curls his hand around Dean's hand that is already holding him. Dean glances over at him, questioning, and Castiel leans in for another kiss; soft again. “We will not die tomorrow,” Castiel says against Dean’s lips, tracing Dean’s cheek with his thumb, before kissing him once more and tucking his head against Dean’s shoulder. “Get some rest, Dean. You are of no use to your brother exhausted,” he says, but Dean’s already asleep. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel whispers against Dean’s freckled shoulder. “I’m sorry.”


	10. The Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, gothicmiriel! I hope you like it! :)

Sometime later - how long, Castiel isn’t sure - Castiel is awoken. He opens his eyes to a dimly lit room. The sunlight is mostly blocked out by the yellow and white checkered curtains over the window. Castiel can see dust dancing in the filtered beams. He smiles when he feels Dean’s arms wrapped around him and is about to turn around to face him when he hears Dean whispering behind him.

“...already know that I like classic rock and travelling with my brother in my baby. That my dad was a dick and I hunt monsters and my uncle Bobby was the one that taught me most of what I know. I mean, come on, Cass! There is so much I don’t know about you and I actually want to know them! I want to know what you wanted to grow up to be and who your celebrity crush was and what your favorite book is. What your favorite and least favorite food is, where on your body makes you moan the loudest when I lick you there. I want to know what you want in a man and I want to be that for you. It’s driving me insane knowing that I won’t get to find out these things. I want to be able to wake up beside you every morning and kiss you, even if you have bad morning breath.” 

Castiel feels Dean bury his nose in his hair and release a long, warm breath. “It’s not fucking fair. I’ve never been in love, Cass, but I know that when I see you smile, it makes me smile, and when you’re upset, I feel sick to my stomach. I think this is what falling in love feels like and it sucks, because what if you’re falling in love with me, too? What if you’re hurting like this and I’m only going to make it worse.” 

Dean presses a soft kiss to the back of Castiel’s neck and stays there until his breaths turn slow and rhythmic. There are tears dripping down Castiel’s face when he falls back to sleep. 

* * *

Castiel awakes with a groan, blocking his eyes from the demanding sun. 

“Rise and shine, sleepy head,” Dean says. “I made breakfast.” 

Castiel riskily lowers his hand to peer at Dean, who’s grinning at him from the window. He’s dressed in light blue jeans with a black t-shirt worn under a maroon button-up shirt that he’s left unbuttoned. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing Dean’s muscled forearms. His hair looks golden in the sunlight. “Mmmm,” Castiel moans as he stretches, his body shuddering because it feels so good. “Smells wonderful.” 

Dean chuckles and crosses the room. “Sit up.” 

Castiel sits up and Dean sets down a bed tray across Cass’ lap. 

“You looked like an angel when you were sleeping,” Dean says. He moves as if to kiss Castiel and falters. He looks down at the food in Castiel’s lap and a rich blush Castiel hasn’t had the chance to see yet flushes Dean’s cheeks. 

Castiel smiles and tilts his head up, showing him that it’s okay. Dean smiles shyly and presses a gentle kiss to Castiel’s cheek. “What do I look like awake, then?” Castiel asks, his own cheeks warm. 

“A sexy angel,” Dean smiles. 

Castiel holds onto the trays handles and angles his head up higher for a less chaste kiss and receives one in the shape of a smile pressed to his lips. Dean laughs against him, his lips vibrating with the action. He kisses him once, twice, then again before pulling away. 

“A sexy angel with sex hair,” Dean adds. He runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair and Cass presses his head up into his hand. Dean chuckles and scratches his scalp. 

Castiel’s body trembles at the feeling and he moans. “I like your hands in my hair,” he says, his eyes closed. There's a purr threatening in his chest. 

Dean’s other hand goes into his hair and cradles his head in his strong hands. Castiel looks up at him and Dean’s eyes are especially green with the sun hitting them in just this way, slanting in from the side. It almost looks like sunlight is shining out from within Dean. 

Castiel shifts the tray off his lap and tilts his head up for another kiss. Dean delivers it, his eyes watching him as he leans in like this moment is something he doesn’t want to miss. 

Castiel curls his fingers around Dean’s forearms and presses into the kiss. Their lips fit together perfectly, Dean’s lips forming around Castiel’s bottom lip. They open their mouths to each other and it’s like they’ve been kissing each other for years the way they move together. 

When Castiel lowers himself onto the bed and Dean follows him down, kissing Castiel’s cheek and chin and neck. He tongues Castiel’s neck and sucks greedily along it, gently so as not to leave a mark. His mouth is warm and his lips are soft as he kisses his way down. 

Dean slides to his knees on the hardwood floor. Castiel swallows hard at the sight of Dean between his legs and props himself up on his elbows to watch as Dean pushes his shirt up and kisses his stomach. His tongue is hot as it trails down Castiel’s naked body. 

A whimper escapes from Castiel when Dean’s lips wrap around the head of his cock. He flops down on the bed and drapes his arm over his eyes as Dean’s mouth sinks down on him, afraid that if he watches he’ll come too soon, but he can’t resist looking for long and peeks out from under his arm as Dean laves his tongue across the tip. 

As he takes Castiel deeper into his mouth, Dean fumbles to get his own cock free of his jeans. He slides them and his clean boxer-briefs down to bunch at his knees and takes himself in hand, stroking his cock to the rhythm of his head bobbing between Castiel’s legs. 

Dean moaning around his cock proves too much for Castiel. 

“Dean, I-” he manages before he comes, pulsing into Dean’s sucking mouth. His body trembles as it comes down from the crashing waves of his orgasm. He feels almost sedated as he tries to tug Dean up from the floor. Dean rises, stripping his cock with his lotion-slick hand. 

Castiel sits up and kisses him, delving his tongue in deep as he joins his hand with Dean’s. They stroke him together a few more times before Dean stutters a whimper and comes on Castiel’s belly. 

“Cass,” Dean gasps. “Fuck.” 

There are tears stinging Castiel’s eyes as he chuckles. He cards his fingers through Dean’s warm hair and kisses Dean’s neck. “Join me for a shower?” 

Dean laughs weakly and stands, holding his hand out to Castiel. “We gotta be quick. Bobby just might die of a heart attack if he sees us like this.” 

A blush blazes itself across Castiel’s body and he clutches Dean’s hand as they hurry across the hall. 

They can’t seem to keep their hands off each other in the shower, either, but the mood seems more serious under the torrent of the water. Their touches are gentle and there’s a somberness in their eyes as they kiss. They kiss like it’s the end of the world, because it just might be. 

* * *

Dean rolls his eyes. “I knew you were lying when you said you liked my baby.” 

Castiel shakes his head, smiling. “I’ll be back soon.” 

Castiel catches Bobby looking at him knowingly, a beer bottle held in his hand, and he turns away. He already feels guilty enough; he doesn't think he can handle Bobby's guilt, too. 

“Don’t forget the pie!” Dean calls after him. 

On the walk to the nearest occult shop, Castiel can’t get Dean out of his head. In the shower, Dean’s tender kisses had caused tears to slip down Castiel’s cheeks and he’d had to hide them under the water. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and pressed his cheek against Dean’s back, feeling his heartbeat, and Dean hadn’t tried to move away. He’d covered Castiel’s hands with his and tilted his head forward under the spray, and they’d stayed like that until they were shivering. 

As the shop comes into view, Castiel’s steps falter. He wants so badly to turn and walk away, to never look back, but he knows he can’t. The world is at stake and the only ones who can keep it safe are him and Dean, and he is the one that will be missed the least. 

The smell of sage hits Castiel as he pushes open the door and a bell jingles. A woman behind the counter looks at him and tilts her head as if trying to hear a distant voice. “On the house,” she says. 

“Excuse me?” 

The woman smiles and pushes a bag across the counter. “They’re on the house. Now don’t make me change my mind.” She smiles, flashing her teeth. 

Castiel looks at the bag in confusion a moment before dragging it down from the counter and peering inside. His eyes widen when he sees the items inside. “How did you-” 

The woman taps her head, stirring her wavy brown hair with the movement. “Don’t let the eyes fool you,” she says. “I can see the future.” 

Castiel glances at the items in the bag and swallows. “Dean is planning something, isn't he?” 

“Yes.” 

"Will it work?" 

"Only if he gets the chance to do it." 

"Will he die?" Castiel asks urgently. 

The woman doesn't speak and that's answer enough. 

He releases a shuddery breath. “Thank you,” he says. He turns with the light bag feeling like it’s a hundred pounds. He’s just about to leave the shop when the woman speaks up again. 

“You’re going to break that boy’s heart,” she tells him as the door closes swiftly behind him. 

Castiel clutches the bag tightly and walks toward the nearest bakery. He doesn’t need to see the future to know that.


	11. The Answer

Castiel stashes the grocery bag outside Bobby’s house and brings the box with the warm pie from the bakery inside. Dean and Bobby are in the sitting room, flipping through the books from the night before. They’ve both got equally glum faces that tell Castiel that they still haven’t found another option.

“I brought pie,” he says when he comes in, “and burgers.” He puts the fast food bag down on top of Bobby’s desk and digs out a wrapped bacon cheeseburger and hands it to the older man, then carries one over to Dean and his own to a hard chair near the fireplace. He sits down near the warm fire and unwraps the burger, even though he doesn’t feel very hungry. 

Castiel takes a small bite or his burger and it turns his stomach. He wraps it back up and watches the flickering flames. The fire is warm, but he barely feels it. 

Dean chuckles, breaking the silence, and Castiel glances over his shoulder at him. “What is it?” he asks. 

“Nothing. It’s just… how is it that we can supposedly be made for each other, but the second we finally find each other, we’re supposed to die? That’s just shitty.” 

“Gabriel would get a kick out of it, that’s for sure,” Castiel says with a humorless laugh. 

“Your brother?” 

Castiel nods. “He always said I was special. He says that there is more than one person made for everyone, but that there was only ever one person meant for me, and that I’d find him if I just kept looking.” Castiel shrugs. “I guess he was right.” 

Bobby clears his throat and his chair scrapes back. “I’m gonna take a shower.” 

A moment later, Castiel hears Dean crumple up a fast food wrapper, then it bounces off his head and onto the carpet. He turns around and glares at Dean, who smiles at him. “Let’s have some pie.” 

* * *

By the time 11 o’clock rolls around, Castiel’s recited the words from the book over and over in his head a million times. He’d retrieved the items from the grocery bag from outside while Dean was in the bathroom and now they are tucked into his pockets and underneath his loose shirt.(Cinnamon, cedarwood, rose) His palms are sweating as he stands and watches Dean pace. Bobby’s face is a mask of forced calm. 

A laugh comes from by the door at the strike of 11 and Meg and Crowley are grinning. Sam is bound between them. 

“Are you okay, Sammy?” Dean asks, moving to go to his brother, but Meg raises her hand and Dean is frozen in place. 

“I’m okay,” Sam says, and he looks it, besides the anger in his eyes. He looks almost as calm as Bobby and Castiel agrees that Sam would have made an excellent lawyer. 

“Enough with the small talk,” Meg snaps. “You want your brother back or not?” 

“You guys are crazy if you think we’re gonna say ‘yes’,” Dean says. 

Crowley throws his hand up and Dean goes flying across the room. He slams into the bookcase and books rain down around him. 

“Fuck,” Dean hisses. He stands with a wince. “You messed with the wrong guy,” he growls. Dean reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bow. Castiel’s mouth falls open and he snatches out the bow from beneath his shirt. It’s nothing in comparison to Dean’s bow. The bow and arrow are shiny and silver. 

“That was mine!” Castiel cries. The arrow breaks in his fist and he lets the wooden bow and arrow fall to his feet. 

“Sorry, Cass,” Dean says, tossing the bow onto the floor with a loud clatter. 

“Dean! Don't!” Sam yells. “Tearing out that kind of bond will kill you!” 

That’s when Castiel smells the burning incense. Cinnamon, for passion and energy; Cedarwood, for power and strength; and Rose, for love and desire. 

" I know, Sammy, but what other choice do I have?" Dean tosses the cone shaped incense onto the floor and strikes a match. 

“Love wounds and inflames the heart,” Dean recites. “I burn Cupid’s arrow, which hath struck me mad, and with it burn the love I once had.” 

The flame flares red and Dean looks at Castiel. “I’m sorry, Cass,” he says. He tosses the match onto the bow and the flame flares high, then sputters out. 

Meg and Crowley burst out laughing. “You’ve got the wrong bow, boys,” Crowley says. Meg cackles, gripping her sides as she’s taken over by laughter. 

“I don’t,” a voice says from behind Bobby’s desk. They all turn to see a short man standing beside Bobby as he holds up another bow, this one completely golden. 

“You boys are idjits, trying to kill yourselves for no damn reason,” Bobby says. 

“Gabriel?” Castiel frowns. “What are you doing here?” 

The man in question nestles a golden arrow onto the bow and draws back the string. Meg and Crowley raise their hands, but nothing happens. “Omnia vincit Amor,” Gabriel says. “Love conquers all, Cassie.” He releases the string and sends an arrow through Meg’s chest. “And so let us surrender ourselves to love.” He sent another arrow through Crowley’s. 

Meg and Crowley are consumed by a brilliant red flame. It flickers at the ceiling for a moment before the licking flames ho away, taking with them Meg and Crowley. 

There’s silence for a moment while they all stare at the new presence in the room, before Dean finally breaks. “Your Dr. Love!” 

Gabriel grins. “You’ve got that right.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me your brother was Dr. Love?” Dean asks, gaping at Castiel. 

Castiel continues to stare at his brother. “Is anyone going to explain to me what just happened?” 

Bobby clears his throat and rubs at his neck. “Well, while you and Dean were being all heart-eyed at each other earlier, you mentioned your brother and all that true love babble he spewed at you, and it made me wonder why we didn’t just summon the cupid that paired you two up in the first place.” 

“And that was Castiel’s brother?” Sam asks. 

“Looks like it,” Bobby says gruffly. 

Castiel breathes in for what feels like for the first time in minutes. “I need some air,” he says, before quickly going outside. He feels light-headed and breathes in the cool, autumn air as he steps out the door. He doesn’t realize until he leans up against the outside of Bobby’s house that he’s shaking. He sinks to the ground and tucks his head against his knees. He feels like he might be sick. 

“Cassie?” Gabriel calls. Castiel looks up and his brother is peering out the door. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re… cupid?” he hesitates, still unsure after everything that's just happened. He needs to hear it for himself. 

“A cupid,” Gabriel corrects, coming up beside him. He sinks down onto the ground beside Castiel and pats his back. “I didn’t tell you, because… well, you’re the only one in the family that isn’t, and I didn’t want you to feel any more like a black sheep than you already do.” 

“The whole… Anael? Michael?” 

Gabriel nods. “It’s why I left. I wanted to help people, but… they didn’t want to risk people finding out about us.” 

“Why am I not one?” Castiel asks. “Am I just defunct, or what?” 

“No, Cassie,” Gabriel says, losing the humor in his voice for something more serious. “The reason you aren’t a cupid, is because you can’t be. Cupids aren’t allowed to love one more than others, and Dean… he was perfect for you. He needed you just as much as you needed him.” 

Castiel looks at his brother, who’s looking out at the surrounding trees, then down at his hands. 

“Cass?” Dean calls from the doorway. 

Gabriel stands up and dusts off his pants, then bows, offering his seat to Dean, before leaving them alone with a glittery-eyed wink. 

Dean sits down beside Castiel and rests his arms on his knees. Castiel can feel Dean looking at him, but he avoids his gaze. Instead, he reaches for Dean’s hand and studies the palm of his hand. He runs his finger along Dean’s Heart Line and it sends a tremor through all of him. 

“You were gonna die for me,” Dean says. “I thought you said no one was gonna die?” 

“I said no one else,” Castiel says, glancing over at him. “I recall you saying the same thing.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. He rests his head back against the house and closes his eyes. “Love makes you do crazy things.” 

Castiel raises Dean’s hand and presses a kiss to the palm. “I love you, too.” 

Dean smiles, eyes still closed, and they sit there, side by side, until the stars are a shimmering blanket in the sky and their joined hands are frozen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All that's left for this story is the epilogue.


	12. The End

Sam is nervous. He keeps tucking his hair behind his ears then untucking it with a frown, dissatisfied as he looks at himself in the mirror. His foreheads damp under the halogen lights and he looks a little pale. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he groans.

Dean rolls his eyes and spins his brother around to grab him by the shoulders and shake him a little. “Relax, Sammy,” he says, giving his shoulders a squeeze. "You look fine!" 

“This was a stupid idea,” Sam complains, straightening his silky green tie for the fourth time since Dean got back from the bathroom. Dean laughs when his brother’s brow furrows with worry lines and he scratches at an invisible spot on his tie. 

Dean yanks the tie from his brother's hands and undoes the tight knot Sam has managed to make. “Honestly, Sammy, how bad could it be?” he asks, looping the tie into a quick Windsor knot. He barely manages not to choke on the laughter he's holding back. 

Sam looks down at Dean with his ‘suspicious bitchface’ in place and Dean grins. He pats his brother’s cheek, then turns and walks to the door. He looks back when he reaches it and gives his brother two thumbs up. “It’s gonna be fine!” he tells him, but it only makes Sam look even more pale. 

"Makeup!" Dean calls out the open door. 

* * *

Castiel looks up and smiles as Dean sidles toward him through the aisle, apologizing as he bumps into people's knees. Dean grins at Castiel when he finally reaches him and sinks into the empty seat beside him with an exasperated sigh. “Sam’s terrified,” he says, humor twinkling in his eyes when he looks at Castiel. 

“Why?" Castiel asks, honestly perplexed. "He’s about to meet the woman he is fated to be with.” 

Dean laughs and reaches over to take Castiel’s hand in his. “Uh… maybe because he’s about to meet the woman he’s fated to be with? He’s been waiting his whole life for this and now it’s finally about to happen. On live t.v., no less, with your brother as the host!” 

“Would you have been nervous had you known you were about to meet me?” Castiel asks, caressing Dean’s callus-rough hand with his thumb as he's taken to doing. 

“Honestly?" Dean frowns thoughtfully. "I probably would have laughed my ass off. Seriously. Who the hell looked at me and was like, ‘Yep, this is him. This is the guy for Cass.'” 

Castiel laughs softly and smiles down at their joined hands. “Me.” 

Dean leans over and presses a kiss to Castiel's cheek. "Thank God for that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first ever foray into writing a longer Destiel fic and I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you guys liked it and will comment, letting me know what you thought! I will hopefully be writing more for this fandom soon! :)

**Author's Note:**

> This idea struck me while I was trying to sleep and I had to write it down. I really like where I see it going and I would love for you guys to let me know what you think!
> 
> If you would like to follow me on Tumblr, you can find me [ here! ](http://whichwolfwins.tumblr.com/)


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